Personal Space & Lucky Seven
by ficing.insane
Summary: Belly button ring. CJ has a belly button ring. Danny did not know this. Danny feels like an idiot. A turned-on idiot.
1. Personal Space

Title: Personal Space

_Characters:_ CJ Cregg, Danny Concannon

_Rating:_ Harmless

_Notes:_ No real time. From an email prompt: Piercing.

_Disclaimer:_ All credit goes to Sorkin, Wells, & NBC/Warner Bros.

* * *

Belly button ring. CJ has a belly button ring. Danny did not know this. Danny feels like an idiot. A turned-on idiot.

Granted, that's usually how he feels whenever he's around CJ, and the feeling has a tendency to increase exponentially the closer she gets to his person, so considering that her stomach is about six inches away from his face, he's doing pretty well for himself, all drooling aside.

He should explain. It's hour eight of a ten-plus hour flight, and CJ'd been in the middle of doing her thing –passing out briefing packets, cracking jokes, yelling –when Glen, who'd been sitting in the seat behind him, had asked one of those 'Why, yes, I am the new guy, and funny you should mention, my IQ is remarkably low –how'd you guess?' type of questions. Something about whether or not he could write the kitchen to request a turkey burger. Or if they were at war with Turkey.

It wasn't great, whatever it was. So CJ laughs it off, which is her way of telling one of them that they sound like a moron and ought to consider a career swap. Only Glen doesn't get it –he gets uppity. He asks again, insists, this time. Danny scooches down in his seat along with the rest of the cabin.

Glen misses the 'brace for impact' signal, so CJ's right up in his face when she leans over the back of Danny's seat to give him what-for. Which, in turn, puts Danny smack even with her stomach.

And by 'stomach' he means 'piercing,' cause once he spots the silver studded barbell, that's all he can look at. All he ever wants to look at, really, and who could blame him? It's a great piercing on a great body. So great, that he kinda wishes he were it. Or that he could get a better look, seeing as the cabin lighting's not so hot and that it's mostly hidden by a white mohair sweater that, while sheer, isn't damn near sheer enough so far as he's concerned.

CJ leans back off his seat's headrest, which Danny takes to mean Glen's through being eviscerated. For now. She straightens up, catching his eye as she goes, only his eye isn't where she expects it to be, cause, well. Did he mention it was a great piercing? She goes kind of pale, so knows he misstepped, knows she knows it, and waits to join Glen in a puddle of liquefied reporter on the cabin floor.

Only. No. He's okay. He's okay, and CJ's biting her lip. And blushing. Then she's headed back up the aisle, like nothing weird'd just happened. Danny grins, then –full on, like a total lunatic -cause he can't help but get this powerful feeling that one day, eventually, he's gonna be able to get that better look he'd been after.


	2. Lucky Seven

"You've got the most amazing belly button."

"It's the same one you saw yesterday, Danny."

"Not quite."

Not quite was right. The past six times Danny's found himself in this position –lying in bed with CJ, propped up on one elbow and tracing random patterns across her bare stomach with his free hand –the ring hadn't been there.

It wasn't that kind of ring, he should say. He wasn't nuts enough to propose to CJ after they'd landed in bed together fewer than ten times. Though, yeah, technically he did kind-of-sort-of pop the question in the middle of their second dinner date, back when he still had doubts about whether or not he'd ever see CJ with her clothes off.

But that was then, and this is now –them, in bed, and him with his fingertips a half inch away from brushing up against the very same piercing he'd glimpsed all those years ago back on Air Force One. Except this time there isn't a sweater in the way.

"I'm gonna buy you a billion of these."

"Yeah?"

He nods as he swirls his index finger around the little barbell, not trusting himself to form a coherent verbal response just yet. CJ lets him fiddle around for a minute longer, then twines her fingers into his hair and gives him a gentle downward push toward a more interesting part of her body.

Grinning, he takes the hint.


End file.
